Of a Noble Breed
by HariboFizz
Summary: (Vampire!France x Hunter!England. Rated M for implied themes). Arthur Kirkland, renowned vampire hunter, had been drawn to London, his home city, where there have been a number of murders. The victims are found in back-alleys, secluded but not exactly hidden, all found with two puncture marks on the side of their neck. Dark haired, young women...he's looking for a Noble Vampire.
1. Dangerous To Walk Alone

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Hey guys, I'm back, but not for definite as I still have a lot going on. But I have wanted to write this story for a long time and I hope that you would like it. I promise to try and be more reliable with the updates but please forgive me if I fail. :(**

**Enjoy~**

**1**

The back-streets of London were quiet as a young woman made her way home. Her heeled shoes clattered on the wet cobblestones obnoxiously, and she pulled her scarlet coat around her self-consciously. She hated to be out at night, and she had only been coaxed out of her home at this hour because of the young man she had met two nights ago outside the theatre. He had seemed so nice and not to mention handsome, that she had agreed to meet him tonight outside the theatre again. Only he didn't show. And now she was cold, wet and her feet ached from her pinching black heels and the amount of times she had twisted her ankle on the damn stones.

The tinny sound of a falling bin made her jump and she snapped her head to the right, where the noise had come from. She had expected to hear a cat's yowl or something to offer an explanation for the disturbance, but eerily, there was nothing. The young woman felt a shiver down her back and quickened her pace, despite the protest from her shoes. She turned a corner, but slipped on the cobblestones and let out a gasp of surprise, holding her hands out in front of her to brace herself for the fall. To her surprise, she felt something quite different from hard, wet pavement on her palms. She opened her eyes again, aware she hadn't even fallen, but stumbled into the arms of a young, handsome male. She blinked in shock, captivated by the bright cerulean orbs that stared back, taking in the man's wavy, blonde hair and defined jaw-line.

"E-Excuse me…" she apologised, righting herself again and somewhat reluctantly removing her hands from the man's chest.

"Don't worry about it~" the man replied, and she noted that he was French from the rich accent that laced his words. He smiled, and the woman's first thought was: _He's so much better than the man I was supposed to meet._

"Are you alright, _mademoiselle_?" he asked, his expression one of neighbourly concern. She nodded, unable to tear her eyes from the man's face. "If I may ask, were are you going in such a hurry?"

"I…I was going home…I just felt a little unsettled walking on my own…" she replied, feeling foolish for being scared of the dark and blushing.

The man let out a low laugh, not mocking, but rather in agreement. "It's not safe for a beautiful woman such as yourself to be walking alone at night, wouldn't you agree?" The woman flushed red from the compliment, and let out a nervous laugh in response.

The man offered his hand out to her. "Allow me to walk you back~"

The young woman was sorely tempted to accept his offer and his hand, and be led home by the most charming man she could ever hope to meet, but her intuition held her back a little. "I don't live far, so you really don't need to. Besides," she added in a more flirtatious tone, "I don't even know your name, sir."

The man smiled again, amused by her reasoning, before giving an elegant bow that was way too dramatic for the occasion and made her laugh. "Forgive my manners. My name is Francis~" he introduced himself with a flourish, and she smiled.

"I'm Emily~" she returned the introduction, and blushed again when Francis gently brushed his lips against her knuckles.

"_Enchanté_, _Mademoiselle _Emily_~" _he purred, and Emily's heart seemed to leap from her chest and into the palm of his hand at his words.

"Y-Yes, nice to meet you too, Francis." She felt heated from the contact he gave her, but when he offered his hand again, she accepted it gracefully. He began to lead her down the alley, where she was sure they would come out onto a busier street. She didn't even notice they had wound their way into narrower, deserted alleys and further away from the main streets.

Emily's exposed ankle brushed something furry that scurried away as it was touched, and she let out a scream, making Francis turn.

"What's wrong, _ma chérie_?" the man asked, a little startled as she suddenly clung to his arm.

"I hate rats…" she mumbled, her grip on Francis loosening again. "Sorry…" she looked up at Francis' face, to find him almost in a trance, staring at her unblinking. It was eerily beautiful, but it still made her uncomfortable. "W-What is it?" she asked uncertainly, pulling back slightly from Francis, but relaxed again when he blinked and smiled.

"_Désolé, ma chérie_, I was just…mesmerised by your beauty~" Emily blushed again, holding her breath a little as he moved closer to her, backing her against a wall. She felt a flutter of excitement in her chest as she stared into his sparkling, blue eyes, making no attempt to move as he slowly leaned in. Francis paused about an inch from her lips, seeming to change his course and left light kisses on her jaw-line, moving down to her neck. Emily closed her eyes, over-the moon that this happened to her, but they snapped open as she felt something sharp pierce her throat. She gasped but moaned as Francis bit deeper, a strange sense of pleasure and pain mixed together overcoming her. Emily was vaguely aware that Francis had snaked one hand around her waist, and another was holding her hair out of the way. She made to lift her hand, but it seemed to require too much energy, and as her vision went hazy, it was like Francis was sucking the life out of her. The last thing she saw as Francis pulled back from her, licking his lips in satisfaction, was the glinting of his fangs in the moonlight and her blood staining his chin.

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><p><strong>AN: please let me know if this is worth continuing - I know you can't really judge it from such a small chapter, but please review to tell me what you think~**


	2. His Sister

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Thank you to the people who immediately responded and reviewed the first chapter, so I thought to be nice I'd have the next chapter ready the day after. I can't promise to be this quick with all of them, but who knows? :)**

**Enjoy~**

**2**

"The victim was Emily Wren, the fourth in what is known to be a series of 'vampire attacks'." A large, purposeful sergeant sat back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly as he informed the young man across the room.

"Vampire attacks?" said man repeated, and the sergeant nodded. He didn't particularly like this man; he seemed too confident that he could solve this case when the police had followed every lead they had had on it and come up short each time. The young man was supposed to be a world-renowned expert at solving mysterious cases such as this. The famous Arthur Kirkland, most known for solving the Jack the Ripper copycat case a few years ago. But to the sergeant, he was just a stuck-up twit who watched too much 'Scooby-doo'.

"May I see the pictures?" Arthur asked, and the sergeant handed them over.

"What is it with kids these days, eh? Vampires, zombies, ghosts, anything to give them an excuse to dress like punks." The sergeant was clearly set in his ways, and Arthur ignored him, disapproving of how the sergeant saw all this as a joke. Arthur himself had come across a vampire before, and ever since, he had found out everything he could in order to be ready the next time. He examined the pictures of each of the four bodies, noticing quickly that the signature of this man – he knew it was a man as it was always young women who were victims, and there was a deeper meaning behind the choice of victims – was to leave his victims in a deserted alleyway where someone would only find them if they accidentally went down that route if they got lost or confused in London's maze of alleys.

"Would it be possible to see the crime scene?" Arthur asked professionally, but he preferred the scene rather than pictures, which usually never told the whole story.

"The pictures ain't enough for you?" the sergeant raised an eyebrow, before realising Arthur was serious and sighed. Grumbling, he reached for his phone, calling an officer to take Arthur to the crime scene.

XxX

_"Wait for me! I found a penny!" Arthur yelled down the alley, his five year-old hands reaching down in the crack between two cobblestones where the coin glinted in what was left of the evening light. _

_"Hurry up, Arthur. Or I'll leave you here on your own~" his older sister, Alice, called back, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. _

_"No!" Arthur was scared of the dark, Alice knew that, so she used it to her advantage all the time. He jammed his fingers over the penny, finally retrieving it and holding it up triumphantly for her to see. "I got it!" he ran up to her, stumbling a little on a cobblestone that suck up from the rest, and grasped her hand. _

_"Ew," she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You should have left it there, it's all dirty, idiot." Arthur's face fell, and he looked down at the grubby penny in his palm. Alice rolled her eyes, knowing how easily she could upset her younger brother. _

_There was an eight year age-gap between the two of them, as Alice was the oldest sibling and they had lots of brothers. Arthur was the youngest, and therefore entrusted to Alice, partly so he could be looked after, and also so their mother could make sure Alice wasn't up to anything she shouldn't be. _

_"Come on." She sighed, and turned back to the way she had been walking before she heard Arthur asking her to wait. Arthur was tugged along behind her, not paying attention to where they were going, instead, trying to wipe the dirt off the penny with his thumb. He didn't notice his sister stop in her tracks until he bumped into her, and Arthur was about to call her "stupid" for stopping, when he noticed a dark figure in their path. Alice's hand had tightened around Arthur's, and he looked up to see her expression, but it was neutral. _

_"Shouldn't you two be in bed at this hour?" the figure asked, and Arthur peered at him from behind his sister. _

_"We're just going home now…" Alice responded, sounding unsure of the situation. This caught Arthur's attention – Alice always knew what she was doing. She was always right, she declared so herself all the time, so now Arthur wondered what had made her change. Suddenly, he just wanted to go home. He was tired, and he tugged on Alice's hand to get her attention, but she didn't look at him. Her eyes were trained on the figure, fierce and protective. _

_The figure chuckled, a sound that echoed down the alley and made Arthur clutch the fabric of his sister's dress. The strange man was scaring him, and his sister wasn't doing anything!_

_"…I want to go home…" Arthur whispered to his sister, but the figure seemed to hear and stepped to the side. _

_"Please, don't let me stop you~" he dared Alice, who gritted her teeth and squeezed Arthur's hand. Still, she didn't move, and Arthur began to tug at her dress impatiently. _

_"What do you want from us?" She asked instead, and the figure paused. Arthur rubbed his eyes, the penny still clutched in his fist, about to complain that he was tired again. _

_"How about that penny?" the figure asked, his tone mocking and friendly. Too friendly. _

_Arthur looked down at the penny in his hand, and looked up again to see Alice also looking at it. _

_"But…I found it…" Arthur reasoned timidly, before remembering a rhyme his brothers used to taunt him with. "Finders keepers, losers weepers!" he stated defiantly, locking his fingers around the coin protectively. _

_"My, my...what a pesky child." The figure crouched, extending a gloved hand. "Give me the penny, and I'll let you pass, how does that sound?" _

_Alice hesitated, before looking down at Arthur again. "Give it to him, Arthur. I have some pennies at home, you can have one of them."_

_"But – " Arthur pouted. It was his penny, so why should he give it away. "But it's dirty. He won't want it…" he mumbled, but Alice gave him a 'do as I say' look. The figure waited with his hand outstretched, and Arthur approached him slowly, dragging his sister behind him. When the figure did nothing, and Arthur could see the man's friendly face, he gave a smile and let go of Alice's hand. The five year-old placed the coin in the palm of the man's hand, but didn't move away in time. The figure's gloved hand enclosed around Arthur's small one, making him squeak in fear. Alice yelled out, and the stranger pushed Arthur with such force that the young boy tumbled into the hard brick wall. _

_xXx_

_Arthur opened his eyes and all was silent. He started crying as his head hurt, and rubbed his eyes. He felt something in the palm of his hand and opened it, seeing that the penny he had dug out from between the cobblestones was still there. _

But, didn't the man take it_? _

_Arthur sniffed, before remembering his sister. "Alice?" he called, but no one answered. _

_"Alice?" he stood, one hand holding his head to make the pain stop, before he froze. He could see one arm sticking out of the shadows, a delicate, silver bracelet donning it. Alice's bracelet. Arthur forgot his pain, shuffling over to the shadows, and as he got closer he could see the sleeve of her dress, her long blonde hair sprawled on the floor. _

_"Alice?" Arthur squeaked, seeing blood trickling from two small holes on the side of her neck. Her eyes were wide open and terrified. She wasn't blinking. She wasn't breathing._

_Arthur's hand opened involuntarily, and the penny fell with an echoing rattle as it wobbled from one side to the other, before finally coming to rest on the Queen's head._

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><p><strong>AN: awww little Arthur~ please review and let me know how you're finding the story~**


	3. Nobles

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**3**

Arthur stared down at the body of Emily Wren, seeing the ghost of Alice Kirkland before him. He clenched his fists, thankful he had kept them in his coat pockets. Ever since the evening when he lost his sister, Arthur had stopped believing in happy endings. After what he witnessed, he didn't need to be told that Father Christmas wasn't real, that his mother was the real Tooth Fairy. He had lost contact with his brothers – he never really got along with them anyway, it was only Alice who he could really class as a sibling – and had moved away from home when he was just sixteen. He had been hunting vampires since he moved out, therefore guaranteeing he had nothing to lose every time he chased one. Arthur had never let himself get close to anyone, and was by now used to people like the sergeant disliking him. He didn't care. He had all he needed: his stakes, holy water, and a gun. The gun would never kill them, but if he shot their leg or shoulder, it would slow them down a little and allow him to get close enough before they healed. By now, he had perfected his hunting technique, and had earned himself quite a reputation in doing so.

_So much for a low profile. _

Arthur noted that this vampire most certainly had a preference. Miss Wren, like the other three, was female, around 20 years old, and had dark hair like the rest of them. After a few years of hunting vampires, he had been able to classify there were two types. Type 1 was a Common Vampire, one who didn't care what it bit as long as it was an easy target. They would often leave a lot of blood behind, and wouldn't give two hoots about running out on the street with blood all over them and grabbing someone to bite in front of everyone. They were the easiest to hunt, but there were also a lot more of them to deal with. However, in the case of Emily Wren, under other circumstances, she should've felt honoured. Her life had been claimed by a Noble Vampire, one who would choose their victims carefully and possibly stalk them for a while in order to find the most effective and easy way to kill them, limiting the chances of being caught. These vampires were predominantly male, but there was a case of a female Noble who had managed to kill sixty-seven young men before Arthur caught her. The Noble Vampires were also older than the Common Vampires, some living for centuries and therefore being the most difficult to find and kill. Arthur recalled that Alice had also been killed by a Noble Vampire. You could tell by how clean the death is. Noble Vampires would only ever leave one set of fang marks, and it was rare to find much blood left, let alone a pool of it or blood spattered against the wall behind the body. These vampires Arthur considered to also have an intimate moment or relationship with their victims, from either asking their name to in some cases making love to them before they would feed.

This was certainly the work of a Noble – there was no blood left over and there were two defined piercings in Emily's neck. Arthur saw that the victim was also dressed as if to impress someone – male company, perhaps. It was possible the Noble himself had arranged to meet her, that or he knew she would be meeting someone and waited until she was walking home again. The heels of her shoes were considerably scuffed, and there was stains of where she had stepped in puddles. She had certainly been rushing to get home. There were no signs of a struggle, as corresponded with the other victims, and Arthur could not infer any more from the appearance.

However, Emily's body was positioned – it wouldn't have slumped and been discarded in that way – with her right arm bent and her palm facing upwards, her right arm across her chest. Her legs had been tilted slightly, and her eyes had been closed. It made her look innocent, undeserving of the fate that met her. The other three victims had also been found this way, the pictures showed. Arthur supposed it was either a sign of remorse, or this Noble held his victims with such a high value that he made sure they looked beautiful even after death, and these women, all four of them, were very pretty. Arthur suspected it was the latter; he had never encountered a remorseful vampire and he didn't think he ever would. It wasn't one of the typical traits of a blood-sucking monster. A bizarre but likely thought flew into his mind as he contemplated the position of the body: the Noble had seen someone close to him die in that specific position, so it was like each victim was representing that person. Then again, it could just be that the Noble wanted to create a signature for himself, so the ones who discovered the bodies knew they were linked. That was the problem with Noble Vampires, they were too vain and proud to let their victims be found without something to link it back to them. They liked to boast about such things as a teenage girl may boast about a new outfit.

Arthur stepped away from Emily's body, retracing the route he assumed she had taken – or _they_ had taken, if Emily had encountered the Noble at this point – looking for anything to give a hint to the identity of the Noble. DNA was not an option with vampires, as either they were too old to have any details recorded, or they were recorded as dead anyway so the chances of Arthur getting someone to look up a wanted dead person without them asking questions was very slim. So it was down to good old-fashioned detective work, something that Arthur had been improving with on every case he had. Unfortunately, Nobles rarely left any evidence behind unless they wanted it to be found, and this one, apart from the positioning of the body, had nothing he wanted to share.

Looking to the shadows, he was painfully reminded of the arm sticking out, the bracelet belonging to his sister and eventually Alice herself. Drawing a sharp breath, Arthur turned and went back to the officer to escort him back.

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><p><strong>AN: categorising vampires 'cause I can~ :P please review and tell me what you think of the story~**


	4. Desires

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**4**

Francis sat back against the plush, velvet sofa with a contented smirk on his face. That last girl, Emily, had satisfied him more than the others. Perhaps it was because she didn't scream or cry for help, or maybe it was because he could feel her enjoying it as he drank. Whatever it was, she had made Francis feel almost delirious with the new surge of blood running through him.

"Someone looks happy~" a loud, East-German accented voice spoke from across the room, and an albino man, Francis' friend for many centuries, offered him a glass of what at first glance was wine, but it was too deep a red for such a liquid. "Good night?" he asked, and Francis nodded as he accepted a glass.

"_Oui,_ I paid a visit to the one I'd been watching since last week." The French vampire swirled his glass gently, watching the blood elegantly coat the sides of the glass as it swirled in the motion.

"The hot chick? Awesome! I mean, if you were going to take any longer with her, I could've nabbed her myself~" the albino joked, sitting down opposite Francis.

"You know, Gil, I may just bite you if you did that~" Francis threatened, baring his teeth at the other vampire. It was an empty threat of course, one Noble could not bite another without both of them dying, and since both Gilbert and Francis were Noble vampires, the action would not be wise.

The Prussian vampire bared his fangs back, then laughed as Francis grinned.

"I was going to go out tonight, see if there's any cute blondes willing to offer me a bite to eat~" Gilbert grinned at the pun he had used so many times and was no longer amusing to the Frenchman. "Want to come with me?"

"You know I dislike your taste in girls, _mon ami_. I'd rather not~" Francis waved his free hand in dismissal, sipping from his glass and grimacing a little at the taste. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, gesturing to the blood.

"Oh, it's from the lady who used to clean the house~" Gil said chirpily, sipping his own drink. "You don't like it?"

"It's foul." Francis stated bluntly. He had always been far more selective than Gilbert, leading him to build up a reputation of disliking any blood he didn't lure himself.

Gilbert shrugged. "Suit yourself." He took Francis' glass from him and set it on the ornately decorated crimson table next to him. "I'll have it later~"

Francis rolled his eyes. "Now I need to get that awful taste out of my mouth. It seems one of my dear 'desires' will be meeting me sooner than I had planned." He looked less than pleased, but Gilbert snorted, partially at the French vampire's insistent reference to calling his victims 'desires'.

"Serves you right for being a fussy son of a bitch, frog-face!" the albino laughed, and Francis swatted him over the back of the head, before bidding him goodbye and retreating to the place he knew his next victim would be.

XxX

Francis hummed against the girl's throat – Rose, he had been told – as he drank her blood, tasting the fear and exhilaration running through her veins. He held her dark hair back, caressing her waist lovingly as she began to slump against him. The vampire could hear the blood draining from her, feel it rushing through him like a dam that had burst and been destroyed by the force of water behind it. Rose's head lolled back and her legs buckled, one arm that she had draped over Francis' shoulders falling back down to her side as she lost consciousness.

The vampire withdrew his fangs, before running his tongue over the two fresh puncture marks affectionately, like smoothing over the single crease in a pretty dress. Francis drew back from his victim, admiring her appearance now that he had finished with her. Deadly pale, the life drained out of her skin and eyes, leaving a glazed, limp doll in its place. Her head was still hanging back, like a puppet with a broken string which used to support the head.

_They were always prettiest like this_.

With care, Francis tucked a strand of the girl's dark hair behind her ear, allowing him to see her pale, lifeless face with less obstruction. He stared at her a long moment, as he did with each of his 'desires', before laying her on the cold, dark cobblestones, her skin now a harsh contrast in the moonlight that glinted on the silver necklace she still wore. Francis crouched beside her, lifting her head gently with one hand and undoing the clasp of the necklace with the other. He liked to take a keepsake with him, and it was usually jewellery. From necklaces to rings, he was indifferent to the design or the quality, he would put them in a little wooden box with a dark, elegant swirling pattern carved on the face of it, treating each trinket with as much care as he had the victim.

He took care to lay one hand over the girl's chest and the other arm laying dramatically away from her torso, the palm facing upwards. Francis had begun to put his victims in this position a few years ago, ghosting the pose of a certain young woman who had been drained of her blood. The vampire who killed her had not been Francis, but the woman herself had managed to steal Francis' no longer beating heart, and the one who killed her had thought he was doing Francis a favour. Nobles could not fall for human beings; they could certainly do better than that, and they would only grow to outlive or tire of them anyway. Francis had killed the woman's killer, however, too caught in his own rage and grief at what the vampire – his own friend for many centuries – had done, but the image of the woman's body lying with one arm across her chest and the other thrown out with the palm towards the sky had been burnt into his mind ever since.

"_Bonne nuit, ma chérie~_" Francis purred, leaning in close to place a gentle kiss upon the girl's forehead, before standing and stepping into the menacing shadows of the night.

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><p><strong>AN: anyone getting any small hints of how this is going to link up yet? I will do a chapter on how Nobles become what they are from Common vampires at some point, but I cant promise when~**

**In the meantime though, please review~**


	5. A Little Game

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**5**

Arthur sat down heavily in the old armchair he had moved by the fireplace for winter. The house was quiet, but then again he would expect nothing less as he lived alone. The Englishman leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his lap and resting his head in his hands. He had just about had enough of that sergeant, and was wondering how he could get rid of him so he could really investigate this case. Only the enticing crackle of the flames in the old, dark fireplace served as an answer, and Arthur raised his head a moment to stare at them in thought.

A harsh ring suddenly sounded through the room, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts quickly. He glared at the telephone he had had moved to this room a year ago, regretting the decision for the thousandth time. Sighing, Arthur stood up and trudged over to the phone to answer.

"Yes?" he asked, picking up the phone and speaking into the receiver.

_"Kirkland? Ah, good. It's – "_

"I know who it is." Arthur interrupted bluntly, recognising the agonising voice of the sergeant from before. There was pause on the other end, and Arthur remembered the sergeant didn't lie to be cut off like that, smirking and waiting for a response.

_"There's been another murder." _The sergeant stated, and Arthur frowned. He had only just arrived home after examining the last scene. Whoever this vampire was, he was moving quickly.

"Are the signs the same?" his tone was formal and demanding, needing to know the information as he was already pulling his coat on.

_"We believe so. Are you going to take a l – "_

Arthur slammed the phone down and grabbed everything he needed: a notebook and pen; a small bottle of Holy Water he always carried on him, just in case; a freshly carved stake and a silver cross; and of course, his hat. A gentleman should never leave the house without it.

XxX

'_Rose Holly'_, the report said, and there was a picture of an 18 year old girl, beaming at the camera. She was pretty, like the others, Arthur noted to himself. She even looked pretty now, if you could call a corpse lying in an alley 'pretty'. It was now dark, as Arthur had received the phone call notification quite late in the evening, but he had rushed over to the scene regardless. There were no police officers now, although there were several 'we were here' signs by the ghastly yellow tape that sanctioned off the alleyway.

Crouching over the body of the girl, Arthur shone his small torch, no longer fazed by how horrific it seemed to shine a torch on a corpse. He could almost immediately see the two puncture marks, and like before, not a drop of blood was to be seen. Not only was this a Noble, but this was a Noble who knew exactly what he was doing. Every step the vampire made was purposeful, and he had probably planned this victim a few weeks in advance at least. The thought enraged Arthur, and he silently clenched a fist. This vampire was taunting him, a big 'catch-me-if-you-can' tease. The Noble was confident, and would probably continue this until he was caught, not before.

Nobles weren't the type to be cowardly.

An almost mute splash sounded behind him and Arthur whipped round, his senses alert instantly. His eyes scanned the empty alley before him, the only sign of disturbance was the now calmly rippling puddle a few feet away. It could have been something that dropped from one of the rooftops that protruded into the alleyway, but Arthur knew better. There was a slight hint of the aroma of roses, which seemed quite a random scent in the grimy, dark alley, so someone had been there. Someone had been standing behind him. Or something. It had been close enough to attack Arthur with the element of surprise, but it had merely watched. Arthur frowned; _why would it only watch? _He knew for a fact that Noble vampires didn't kill outside of their preference unless they had to, and Arthur was blonde-haired, young but male, so he wasn't exactly this Noble's type. But still, if the Noble knew how much of a risk Arthur posed him, surely he would've simply killed him off?

Unless, the Noble really didn't see Arthur as a threat yet, and this was only to mock him. Arthur frowned in annoyance, stepping away from the body and investigating the nearby alleys, but he found nothing.

_So much for Nobles not being the type to be cowardly._

XxX

_My, my…_Francis thought to himself as he observed the vampire hunter from the shadows. _What a curious one. _He smirked, knowing he could just kill this man as quickly as snapping his fingers, but at the same time, the hunter intrigued him.

_I think I'll play a little game with you, Hunter. You try and catch me, before I catch you._

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><p><strong>AN: In advance the French won't be grammatically correct and I do apologise. Please review - I always value my reader's opinions of my work~**


	6. From Behind

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**6**

Arthur stepped quickly through the back alleys, certain he would either find or prevent something just by his presence. He clutched his dark coat around him tightly, blocking out the icy wind that had seemed enhanced by the narrow alleys, and adjusted his hat again. The two latest victims, Rose Holly and Emily Wren, had been found in alleys only a few turns from each other, and now Arthur was making his way to them quickly and quietly, making his footfalls light. Nobles vampires had enhanced senses and were able to detect the smell of blood from a certain distance, depending on how trained the Noble had become. It meant that they rarely ever walked past humans on the street: the smell of the blood pumping through the bodies would drive them to insanity.

He turned a corner and ran into someone else, both jumping in surprise and reeling back.

"Please excuse me, I'm terribly sorry…miss?" Arthur saw the person he had bumped into was a young woman with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and she was very attractive.

_Just the Noble's type. _

"Oh, no I'm sorry…" she gave a small smile. "Clumsy me~" The young woman was clearly one who was afraid to be here alone, and she brushed a few strands of hair behind her pierced ear, revealing a small red earring to match her dark red dress. She began to walk past Arthur, and his instincts screamed at him to stay with her as long as he could; she was the next victim. He cleared his throat in a gentlemanly manner, trying to look as harmless as anything.

"Actually, I appear to have lost myself, and I was wondering if you could help me?" he offered a small smile, which he knew happened to be one of the only things that could make him seem worth helping.

The woman paused, and it was blatant that she didn't want to be alone either. But before she could answer, a growling could be heard quite close to them. The woman jumped again, before being about to laugh that there was just a hungry dog nearby, but Arthur knew better.

"Get behind me." He directed in a low voice, his hand reaching for the stake in his back pocket.

"W-What?" she asked, obviously thinking he had something else in mind.

"Just do it!" he hissed, drawing his stake quickly. This time she didn't hesitate, moving behind them until she was protected, standing behind Arthur in a corner where two alleys met. That was the trouble with these alleyways, they were all so close together, and you couldn't tell exactly where something was.

Eerie, irregular footsteps could be heard as unpredictable thumps on the cobblestones, before the thing which had earlier made the noise was in sight. A common vampire, his chin caked in blood and his eyes darting about hungrily.

Arthur had seen one like this before: this was a vampire who had drunken too much blood from different people, as usually common ones will not drain their victims of blood, only really taking a few greedy gulps before throwing them aside and moving on to the next one. If a vampire becomes as deranged and detached as this, he could come at Arthur in a frenzy, giving no signal of when he would attack. Now, the vampire stood slightly hunched over, watching Arthur with an animalistic expression.

The woman gave a small shriek, and Arthur immediately told her to be quiet. "They get stirred by any sudden sounds or movements…" he warned in a whisper, and the woman put a hand over her mouth to stop herself.

Although the common vampires were sloppy and not strategic in their attacks, they were strong, and this one could lift Arthur a few feet off the ground if the hunter would let him. Arthur would have to stake it quickly, as soon as the opportunity arose.

The woman kept staring at the common vampire, silent tears running down her cheeks. She was terrified, and had every right to be, but she let out a harsh, only half stifled sob, which spurred the vampire into action.

He lumbered towards Arthur, his body lurching inhumanly as the result of one foot that seemed to be completely twisted at the ankle and could not now support its weight. However, it didn't seem to deter the vampire as common ones could not feel pain like humans could, only able to be hurt by stakes, Holy Water and as a last resort, specialised bullets. Arthur braced himself, watching the vampire's every movement, but waiting for it to come to him.

The vampire bared his already bloody fangs, which had grown to almost half the length of his chin, and made a grab at Arthur with a hand that was used more like claws. Arthur ducked and kicked the vampire in the chest, sending it sprawling into the wall. After years of hunting vampires and training every day, Arthur had acquired his own strength, which could knock a common vampire off its feet if applied correctly. The vampire gave a snarl of fury and staggered to get up, but by that time Arthur was already standing over him. With a final movement, Arthur embedded the wooden stake in the vampire's chest, and it gave a howl of pain, before it turned to dust and blew away with a sudden wind that swooped through the alleys. After the wind had passed, Arthur realised how silent the alley now was, and turned around to comfort the young woman.

But she had gone. Arthur saw something glinting where she had been standing surely moments before; a small, red earring. Arthur was overcome with anger.

_The damned Noble snatched her from right behind me. _As if in response, a low, accented and mocking laugh echoed down the alleyway, taunting Arthur.

Now he understood. The Noble had probably lured the common vampire here, using his own soon-to-be-victim as bait, so Arthur would have something to be distracted from the woman.

_Clever, wasn't it? _

A voice whispered down the alley, the mocking voice from before, but he had to listen carefully to make sure it wasn't just the wind.

_Aw, don't worry, mon cher…She was awfully tasty~ _

When Arthur clenched his fists in rage at the Noble's words, another chuckle followed.

"Show yourself, you bloody demon!" Arthur demanded, his stake raised again threateningly.

_But it's much more fun to see you getting so worked up, Hunter~_

"You coward!" Arthur dared, his eyes scanning the alley in front of him.

_Am I? _

The voice had suddenly concentrated right behind him, and Arthur was about to spin around, when he found he as rooted to the spot. He felt a cold, deathly hand trace up his back and squeezed his eyes shut, hating the sensation. Arthur was pretty sure that the Noble was so close he could've felt the breath on his neck, if only the vampire had been breathing.

He froze as he felt what he thought was the Noble's tongue giving a small lick to his earlobe, and Arthur tried as best he could to escape. But his limbs wouldn't move.

A small groan escaped from him as he felt the Noble's fangs pierce his skin, and he felt the vampire's hum of amusement at this. However, Arthur couldn't feel the blood being drained from him as he had expected, but rather, the vampire retracted his fangs again, pressing his tongue against the puncture marks affectionately.

_Luckily for you, I've already eaten today. Besides, you're not my type, mon cher~_

Arthur could feel the grin the vampire gave, before his limbs seemed released and he collapsed to the floor, his hand immediately reaching for his neck. The Noble hadn't fed from him, but he had marked him for the rest of his life.

Arthur stood shakily, vowing he would not rest until he had firmly embedded a stake into the Noble's cold, dead heart.

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><p><strong>AN: A slightly longer chapter to make up for the shorter one previously. Please review because I really value your input~**

**Thanks~ **


	7. I'm Ready

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**((Timeskip: 3 years later~))**

**7**

Arthur woke in a cold sweat, his heart racing from the same old nightmare. It had been 3 years since his encounter with the Noble vampire, but every night he relived the deathly shiver up his spine and the strangely satisfying feeling of the fangs puncturing his skin. Arthur brushed his now too long hair out of his dulled green eyes, unable to get the taunting, accented voice out of his head. He had moved away from London after the Noble had bitten him, committing himself to expanding his own knowledge of vampires and the most effective methods to go about killing them.

He had been worried that he would be consumed by the incurable fever that plagued the bodies of those who had been bitten, eventually driving them to a mental state where they craved the blood of humans. The fever would undoubtedly turn a person into a common vampire, which was why there were more of them and no matter how many were killed, the population could easily boom again. But to become a Noble vampire was a much more sophisticated process. The first condition is that the person being bitten has to be willing, fully aware of what would happen to them. Arthur would never be able to understand why anyone would want to become a blood-sucking creature of the night, viewing the whole concept as insane. The person would also have to be strong, or they may have suffered a tragic experience recently which filled them with hatred, rage or sorrow. The most common cause was the death of a loved one, or the person had found out they had some life-threatening illness and only had a short time to live.

It was then down to the Noble to decide whether or not to convert them, and if they chose to, the Noble would drink only some of the person's blood, before offering them their own blood. However, the blood of a Noble was a dangerous thing, not only to common vampires, but other Nobles as well. If a Noble drank the blood of another Noble, both of them would perish. This is because all Nobles need at least a certain amount of blood in their own bodies, and cannot afford to waste any, which is why they drink every last drop of each victim's blood. But if they lose a considerable amount of their own blood, they lose their vampirical strength and become a lesser being than even a common vampire. They would lose their taste for blood, and human food would not appeal to them either. Eventually, they would turn to dust from starvation and blood loss.

But how long the Noble lived afterwards would depend on how much of their blood had been drained. If one Noble managed to drain the other of blood almost completely, the Noble would crumble and turn to dust instantly. However, Noble blood is also poisonous to other vampires, regardless of their rank, and if one bit another, both would eventually turn to dust.

Arthur looked in the mirror, tilting his head up slightly to expose the pale scars of the bite marks on his neck. He was still conscious of the marks day and night, and now wore scarves or high-collared garments to conceal them, but the fangs that not only punctured his skin. They had sunk into his mind, infecting his thoughts and plaguing his brain with the memory of the vampire constantly.

The process of turning someone into a Noble vampire was indeed strenuous, and nine times out of ten, it would be an unsuccessful conversion and the human would die before they turned. However, on the occasion that the human did become a Noble vampire, it was then up to the vampire who sired them to make sure they kept to the shadows and learnt what it means to be a Noble vampire.  
>Arthur gritted his teeth, hating how it had turned into a game for the Nobles: who sires the most is the best Noble. The prize? Respect from other vampires and possibly protection from the likes of Arthur.<p>

A thought suddenly occurred to Arthur, something he had not so much as blinked at before. He never once saw the vampire who had bitten him. He could pass the bloody creature on the street and wouldn't know it was him. The very idea infuriated Arthur to the point that he clenched the freshly sharpened stake he kept on his bedside table and threw it across the room. He had not meant to achieve anything by it, but had automatically flicked his wrist as he did so, sending the stake whistling through the air with blade-like speed and precision, before it embedded itself into the wall, puncturing the stained wallpaper and forcing a hole in the shabbily-constructed wall.  
>Arthur stared at it a moment, secretly impressed that he did that, before getting to his feet and retrieving the stake, pulling it out of the wall with ease.<p>

Looking to the window with the stake clenched firmly again in his strong fist, Arthur gave a smirk to the now full moon, unable to hide behind smoky clouds anymore as Arthur challenged it.

_I'm ready._ Arthur declared to the moon, to the Noble who had dared have the audacity to come near him. To the coward who had attacked him from behind. To the fool who wouldn't show Arthur his face.

_I'm ready. And I'll start with you._

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><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry for not updating in so long, but lately everything has just been feeling really down for me, and I didn't want to write something crappy and upload it quickly, and thought it was better to wait until I had some level of inspiration first. But thanks to everyone who has been reading this and telling me to continue, it really does mean a lot to me and I do try my best to make the story as enjoyable as possible for you! Again, thanks for putting up with my random updating and such! ~**


	8. Blame

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

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><p><strong>REVIEW RESPONSES:<strong>

**Roseyposey=**** Thank you so much and I'm glad I have "made your day"~ :D I will try to update more but unfortunately I can't promise anything ((sorry~)) but thanks again~ XD**

**Barbra=**** Thanks so much for your review, an in answer to your question I haven't written a lemon before so I'm not sure…but I can promise heavy implications or flirtatious behaviour from Francis in later chapters ;) we'll see how it goes~**

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><p><strong>8<strong>

A man lay in his makeshift bed, the thin sheets covering him heaving up and down in time with the violent coughs that wracked the man's body. He squeezed his red eyes shut as another spasm of pain electrocuted through his body, but he refused to cry out. He knew it wouldn't do any good. His family didn't care what happened to him - they wouldn't even get a doctor for him. If he was able, he would go to a doctor by himself, but he hadn't eaten properly in days which made him weak. Besides, if he did get cured, it would mean living with a family who hated him for even longer. Gilbert never thought he had been treated fairly, but learnt the hard way that albino people were considered to be possessed by the Devil. If he could wish away his white hair and red eyes, he would, but it wouldn't change the look of utter disgust he saw in his parents' eyes. They still blamed him for his little brother's death four years ago.

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><p><em>Little Ludwig had been spending the day with Gilbert, and they had been playing hide and seek in the woods. It had been a quiet day, Gilbert and Ludwig had been the only ones there. <em>

_"It's your turn to count, Bruder!" Ludwig declared, his five-year-old self beaming at the teenage Gilbert._

_"Ja, okay then." Gilbert grinned back, before closing his eyes and facing a tree to ensure Ludwig would not accuse him of cheating._

_"Ein...Zwei...Drei..." he heard delighted giggles as Ludwig scrambled up a small slope, unaware that Gilbert had already sussed out Ludwig's location. _

_"Vier..._ _Fünf...Sechs..." Gilbert smiled a little as he heard Ludwig give a small humph of victory, gathering he had made it up the slope successfully. The sound of footsteps muffled by the carpet of dead leaves and twigs began to fade as Ludwig ran to find a hiding place._

_"Seiben...Acht...Neun - " a short, piercing scream made Gilbert's eyes snap open and he jerked his head up, trying to see his brother._

_"Ludwig?!" _

_The albino clambered up the small slope, his feet slipping on the damp, dead leaves as Ludwig had not moments ago. He reached the top and his crimson eyes darted, trying to spot Ludwig through the trees, but he couldn't see him. Panic coursed through him as he raced through the trees, stumbling twice as hidden roots tangled around his feet and brambles cut his calves sharply. One step sent shoots of pain up his leg, and he briefly registered that he had twisted or perhaps sprained his ankle. But he didn't care. All he wanted to do was find Ludwig and make sure he was alright._

_"Ludwig!" Gilbert yelled, hoping for an answer as he hurtled through the woods, feeling numb, his thoughts only of Ludwig. He received no reply save for the snapping of twigs and the rustling of disturbed leaves as he crashed through the trees, before he was forced to halt. The ground fell away beneath him, forming a large, leafy crater. The sides were steep, and if Gilbert had been any more careless, he could've broken his neck stumbling into the bowl._

_His eyes widened in realisation as he saw a path of disturbed woodland floor leading down into the centre of the leafy bowl. There, a crumpled body of a child lay, silent and unmoving. _

_"Ludwig..." Gilbert felt a weird, dazed sensation come over him, and for a moment he thought he was going to faint. But on coming to his senses and realising Ludwig needed him, Gilbert shook his head a little, before starting down the slope. _

_"Ludwig!" he yelled at the still figure as he stumbled down the steep side. "Ludwig!" _

_Gilbert felt his legs buckle under him just as he reached the bottom of the slope, and he fell to his knees next to the child. Gilbert could now see that one side of Ludwig's head was stained a dark red, and a sharp rock that had been concealed until Ludwig fell and unearthed it, now lay bloody and close to the boy's head. Gilbert shook his brother gently, willing him to open his eyes or at least respond in some way. But Ludwig's eyes stayed partially closed, as if he were dreaming. Tears escaped and slipped down Gilbert's cheeks as he shook Ludwig with a little more force, refusing to believe the worst had happened. Again, Ludwig didn't respond. _

_Gilbert's lower lip trembled a moment, as it finally sank in, and then let out a cry of despair, clutching his little brother to his chest, holding him in his arms to protect him from Gilbert's own mistakes. But it was too late for that. Gilbert didn't have to check whether Ludwig was breathing: his body was already growing cold. _

_"__Ludwig…" Gilbert whispered, repeating his brother's name over and over again as he rocked the still body back and forth. Ludwig was the one person who saw past Gilbert's appearance and loved him as a brother should. He adored Gilbert and trusted him entirely. Maybe if he had not have trusted Gilbert, he wouldn't have gone running off and this wouldn't have happened. _

_It's all my fault…_

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><p>Gilbert's body shuddered as he coughed again, his frail bones almost rattling with the strain. He had brought Ludwig back home to his parents that day, cradling his brother against his chest, the pain in his ankle forgotten. He still remembered their expressions. His father was shocked and disbelieving. His mother's eyes held pure rage, and she had slapped him across the cheek hard enough to bruise him for the next few days. Ludwig had always been the favourite child, but Gilbert had never despised him for that. It wasn't Ludwig's fault. But after his mother had struck him, he understood just how much his parents had loathed having a 'demon child' in their family, and now that Ludwig was gone, there was nothing to stop them showing it.<p>

After Ludwig's death, his father buried himself in work, and often came back home late at night, drunk out of his mind. It was then that Gilbert stayed in his room, knowing that if he ventured outside, all he would achieve would be a black eye from his father's flailing fist. His mother couldn't even look at Gilbert anymore, and sat in her rocking chair by the window, staring at nothing for the entire day. She had abandoned the housework and cooking, leaving Gilbert to learn quickly how to take care of himself. His father had passed away not long after his nightly hobby, and neither Gilbert nor his mother shed a tear. A while after that, Gilbert himself had fallen ill, but no matter how much blood he coughed up, or how harsh his sobs were, his mother never came near him, not even with a glass of water. It was hard to believe they even lived in the same house, as Gilbert had been confined to his bed and never saw his mother, or even heard her make a sound.

But he knew it wouldn't be long now.

The illness would soon take him, and he would not burden his mother any longer.

He wouldn't have to think of Ludwig or his family ever again.

He wouldn't have to blame himself anymore.

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><p><strong>AN: oops I killed Germany…I always seem to kill the characters I like…****L****but there you go, another chapter under my belt! Haha please review as you know how much I value your opinions~**


	9. Claudia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia~**

**Yes, it's another Gilbert chapter, BUT he's important so I hope you like it~**

**9**

_I can feel it. _

_It won't be long now._

_Still, I don't want to die here, in a house where I am not loved or wanted. _

Gilbert hauled himself out of the bed he had not left for some weeks now, a shaking hand grasping the bedpost for support. He was as frail as an elderly man now, and hearing his bones practically creaking at the joints was something he didn't want to experience again. He managed to get to his feet, slipping on a pair of worn slippers that used to be his father's, and slipping into a now oversized dressing gown. It wasn't much, but it would do. With all the strength he could muster, he pushed the old, peeling window upwards, instantly met by the bitter, cold night air. An unpleasant shiver coursed through him, making him feel as fragile as a feather, but he wasn't deterred. He hauled himself up to the windowsill and with great difficulty, managed to drag himself through the window, landing on the damp cobblestones below softly. Their family had never been rich enough to afford more than one level to their house, and now it was something Gilbert was thankful for. Shivering, he struggled to his feet, not prepared to let anything stop him from getting away from such a hell-hole he had had to suffer in for the majority of his life. He made his way down the narrow alley that was pretty much the only thing remotely resembling a garden, and at least seven of the closely-packed houses shared it. Leaning against the cold, dirty walls for support, Gilbert stumbled down the alley, each step one further from that dreaded house.

But it was a maze of alleyways from here onwards, and Gilbert quickly found himself wandering aimlessly. Their mother had never let either Gilbert or Ludwig explore down here, claiming it was not safe. But Gilbert had nothing to lose now, and continued to turn corners blindly.  
>A stronger, frostier wind had begun to pick up, channelling through the alleys and making Gilbert feel the icy grip of it surrounding him. Still, he pressed forward, not caring where he ended up anymore.<p>

Only an echoing, innocent laugh of a young woman stopped him, and he turned to locate the source of the sound. Sure enough, a young woman - the likes of which he had never seen before - was standing a few steps behind him, leaning gracefully against the wall. Gilbert was stunned: she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! Her dark as black hair tumbled past the shoulders of her elegant, red dress that hugged her figure in the most attractive way. Gilbert could feel himself blush faintly merely at the sight of her, and failed to notice that the woman's hair was not disturbed by the wind, and that she cast no shadow. Frankly, all he was aware of was how the dress revealed so much cleavage that he wondered how the dress was even containing it all. He had never seen a female wear such clothing, and couldn't stop staring at her chest.

The woman smiled, pretending not to notice as she took a step towards him. "Finally, someone else in these God-forsaken alleys~" her voice was pretty, and Gilbert found himself captivated by her.

The agony of his illness was completely forgotten as he stared at her, not realising she had expected some sort of response. The woman arched one eyebrow, clearly amused at his stunned display.

"I wonder...could you help me? I am insufferably lost, you see~" her voice was a purr that hummed in Gilbert's ears, and he grinned, something he hadn't done for years.

"Well, sure. It'd be my pleasure to assist such a beautiful lady as yourself~" it was as if the woman's presence had cured him completely, and she smiled, her dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

She took another step towards him, and a feeling of excitement fluttered through Gilbert. His mother had sheltered him from the outside world, or rather, confined him to his room, and so although he was an adult, Gilbert had not so much as kissed a girl before. And now there was this beautiful woman before him, and Gilbert found himself staring again.

But before she could take another step towards him, a searing pain shot through Gilbert and he fell to his knees, trembling and uttering a small cry. It was getting worse, and Gilbert barely registered the woman's arms around him, about to ask if he was alright. But as she touched him, she was able to sense his illness, and knew his time was up. Her plan had been to drain him of blood after playing with him a little, but this new knowledge struck the woman with a sense of pity she had not experienced for years.

Gilbert's body shuddered with the agony he was in, and he unintentionally gripped the woman's shoulder for support. He could hear her whispering something to him, but all he caught was "I can save you". At this, he nodded. The pain was unbearable, and he threw his head back, giving another cry, before a strange, draining sensation came over him as he felt something bite his neck. He closed his eyes, feeling fatigue wash over him. He felt calm now, no longer scared of death or when the illness may take him. He lost consciousness just as the woman retracted her fangs.

XxX

Gilbert awoke feeling hungry, but any trace of the illness seemed to have left him. He dragged his eyes open to see a dark room, unfamiliar to him. He was in a large, luxurious looking bed, and for a moment he thought; _this must be heaven_.

"You're awake."

Gilbert glanced in the direction of the voice, feeling dazed and weak still, but he could make out the figure of the woman he remembered from somewhere. _The one with dark hair and glinting dark eyes…and the…the dress… _He still felt disoriented, but the woman smiled.

"You made it. Well done~" her tone was kind now, not flirtatious as it had been before, but Gilbert frowned in confusion.

"W-What are you…talking about?" he half-demanded once he had found his voice.

The woman still seemed amused by him, even intrigued. "You're a strong one, that's for sure. But you won't be able to move for a while yet. Such a conversion takes time~"

"Conversion?" Gilbert asked, his head swimming with her words. _What the hell is she talking about? _

The woman stood, walking over to the bed and leaning in, her face now inches from his. Gilbert couldn't move away, he felt somewhat paralysed, but he felt unease all the same. For a fleeting moment, he thought she was going to kiss him, but then she stopped lower, now whispering in his ear.

Gilbert's eyes widened at what she was telling him, before attempting to jerk away, which only resulted in him feeling dizzy.

"That's…how stupid do you think I am?" he found his voice again, not liking it that the woman was mocking him. "Everyone knows they don't exist!"

"Don't they?" the woman's tone had changed to a more accusing, demanding tone. "Well then, explain this!" And she bared her teeth at him, displaying two fangs that Gilbert could not think of a rational explanation for. When the woman spoke again, her voice had taken on a slightly muffled sound, as if her fangs were making it more difficult for her to speak.

"Come on then, genius. If you think you know we don't exist, then what's this?" she gestured to herself, her demeanour becoming more fiery and angry.

"I…I…" Gilbert couldn't say anything, unable to conceal his expression of horror. At seeing this, the woman paused, before closing her mouth again.

"Go ahead…" the woman now sounded calm again, producing a mirror from his bedside table. "See for yourself." She held it up to him, but Gilbert could only see the pillows behind him, as if he wasn't lying there at all. He let out a shriek, knowing that vampires were rumoured to cast no reflection or shadow.

"_Nein…_" he shook his head, as if trying to convince himself, and the woman put the mirror down again. She looked at him with the expression of pity she had earlier felt when she sired him.

"You should be grateful…not many people get to be a Noble vampire, you know…" she muttered, but she wasn't demanding any gratitude. Instead, she looked away from him, retreating to the only door the room had. She paused, her back still to Gilbert when she spoke again.

"I'm Claudia, by the way." She glanced back over her shoulder, to where Gilbert was still denying what he had become. "Get some sleep, Gilbert. You'll feel better by the evening."

And she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Gilbert was shaking, barely registering the fact that he never told Claudia his name.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, vampires are rather quick-tempered~ **

**No, Claudia is not based on a Hetalia character, I just made her up~ But now you know how Gilbert became a Noble~**

**And Claudia will go into more detail about how she sired Gilbert in later chapters, in case you were wondering~ **

**Please review~ XD**

**oh, and P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS IF YOU ARE IN THE SAME TIMEZONE AS ME! XD **


	10. Mind If I Join You?(M)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

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><p><strong>WARNING: this chapter contains more mature content so if you don't want to read it then that is fine but please do not complain as this is an M-rated story. You have been warned.<strong>

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><p><strong>10<strong>

Gilbert clenched the small silver cross in his hand, feeling the tingling as it burnt his skin. He remembered Ludwig, he remembered Claudia, the one who raised him to be such a strong Noble. He remembered how attached he had grown to her; he would have done anything for her. He didn't know whether it was the bond every vampire had with heir Sire, or whether he had simply adored her because he had been her favourite. It always hurt now to think of Claudia, but his fist tightened around the cross she had worn. It never burnt her, she was far too strong for silver to hurt her at all, and she always wore it as a mockery, bragging and boasting about how much more powerful she was. But Gilbert only admired her for it, and after he watched her turn to dust, he claimed the cross as his own – a token to remember her by.

He gently put the cross back in the small encasing he had had made for it, before tying it back around his neck. He needed a layer between the silver and his flesh, or else a cross mark would be engraved deeply into his skin. But he still wore it, and the casing was transparent and discreet, so it was only noticed from a close proximity.

Gilbert straightened up, before touring the many halls of the large house in search of his French friend. Behind the door to Francis' chambers, he heard the giggling and excitement of women, two he predicted. He rapped his knuckles against the door, and a slightly muffled "_oui_" granted his permission to enter. He grinned, opening the door and stepping into the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

Inside, Francis was sprawled on his King-sized bed, with one girl, a brunette, running her hands over his broad, bare chest, while another girl, blonde, looked as if she had only just pulled her lips away from Francis'. The French vampire had one hand draped over the blonde's hip, another gently caressing the brunette's breast, running his index finger over the intricate lace material of her bra.

"Mind if I join you?" The albino grinned, not waiting for a response as he laid down next to the Frenchman and dragged the blonde girl onto his lap. She took the hint and turned her attention to Gilbert, while the slightly older brunette took the opportunity to straddle Francis, sitting just above his crotch and teasingly sliding over it a little. This earned an approving grin from the Frenchman, who grasped her calves to pull her closer.

Gilbert grasped the younger blonde's breasts, considerably more roughly than Francis ever would, and in response she pushed closer to him, her cleavage bursting onto his chest shamelessly. Both vampires often indulged in such pleasures during the daylight, as they never slept and couldn't step out into the light of day. The girls they were with were Nobles as well, but they were far lower in the Noble hierarchy than Francis and Gilbert. But neither woman complained, as to please vampires such as the albino or the Frenchman was a great honour and personal pleasure as well. Francis and Gilbert were almost unnaturally handsome, which was enough to sway nearly any Noble into their beds, male or female.

The brunette captured Francis' lips with her own, gently grinding against him, pleased when she received moans of approval or gestures coaxing her closer. She was far more experienced than the blonde, however, and Gilbert was beginning to get irritated by his companion. The blonde kept changing her mind about how to please the albino, which meant she quickly went from nibbling his earlobe delicately to suddenly grinding against him roughly. Gilbert gave a growl of annoyance and pushed her away.

"You're hopeless, you know that?! Maybe you should learn from her more!" He demanded, gesturing towards the brunette, who had tangled her hands in the Frenchman's hair, neither of them paying the slightest bit of attention to Gilbert or the blonde.

The albino laid back against the soft pillows, letting out a despairing sigh. The blonde girl looked as if she might cry, she had never been rejected before. She watched her brunette companion with envy, before determinedly climbing on top of Gilbert again, sitting just above his crotch and teasing him like the brunette had done. Gilbert glanced at her, before shifting, giving her another chance. He kissed her chest, before flipping them over so he was now on top of her, pinning her down to the mattress. She looked a little afraid, before doing her best to make herself look attractive, arching her back to press her breasts against his chest. Gilbert let go of one of her small wrists and slid the free arm around her waist, before grinding against her fiercely.

It was clear that he was agitated, and he was taking it out on the poor girl. He gripped her tightly and dug his fingers into her back, but when she cried out, he only got angrier. He threw her back against the mattress and clawed a hand down her chest, and she yelped as an audible crack was heard. Gilbert had always been a strong Noble, and had cracked the girl's rib. But he didn't stop, and now the brunette had pulled back from Francis, both of them watching the scene.

Gilbert gave a growl of rage and ripped the bra she was wearing, exposing her, before plunging his hand straight into the girl's chest, cracking more of her ribs and earning screams of agony as he gripped her raw, still heart in his hand. With no mercy left in his eyes, he ripped the heart right out of her chest, and she stopped screaming. The girl paled a little, before crumbling to dust on the bed, her heart also disintegrating in Gilbert's hand. Everything went silent, and the albino stood, storming out of the room.

The brunette stared at the grey pile that was the only trace that the girl had ever been there, an expression of honest surprise on her pretty features.

"I'm afraid my friend is rather bad-tempered..." Francis declared, glancing at her. She paused a moment, before looking back at him with a grin.

"She always was a tart~" she replied carelessly. At this, Francis chuckled, before crashing their lips together again and humming in approval as the brunette trailed her hands down towards his belt hungrily.

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><p><strong>AN: um yeah I thought I might try a little experimental chapter…was this okay? Because I always picture vampires as being incredibly pleasure-orientated so…~**

**Please review and let me know what you thought~ AND whether I should later include a more mature FrUK scene, if ya know what I mean~ XD**


	11. That Precious Hunter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**11**

There was a soft knock at the door, but Gilbert didn't answer. He was fuming, but he knew the blonde girl wasn't at fault.

"_Mon ami_?" Francis called through the door, hoping his voice would entice Gilbert to let him in. The albino remained quiet, sat by the large window, knowing if he just opened the curtains a little he would be burnt by the sunlight. Yet, he didn't care. Despite Gilbert's silence, Francis opened the door and invited himself in. he still lacked a shirt, and it seemed his trousers had been pulled up a little hastily, the belt buckle was still undone. But he did not falter under Gilbert's glare, instead perching on the edge of his bed.

"What the hell do you want?" Gilbert snapped, making Francis only raise an eyebrow.

"To know what is wrong, _mon ami_~" he replied smoothly, meeting Gilbert's glare with his cerulean stare. Francis had always had beautiful eyes, Gilbert recalled. A man could lose himself in them for all eternity, and Gilbert found himself attracted to the other vampire. That was nothing new. Gilbert had always had a strange fondness for Francis, but he had never acted on it before. He looked away from those sparkling, blue eyes and glared at the closed curtains instead.

He never should have taken his eyes off Francis. Within a moment, he felt Francis' bare chest press against his back, and turned, meeting Francis' eyes inches from his own face. The sight was captivating, and Gilbert didn't push the Frenchman away. He didn't want to.

"Won't you tell _moi_?" Francis purred, his voice deepening, sounding more flirtatious to the albino, who ran a hand through the Frenchman's golden locks, before grasping them and pulling Francis closer, but they still only stared at each other. Gilbert's eyes seemed to darken a little, and he released Francis, as if he was no longer in the mood to play with him.

"The hunter." He growled out instead, not paying attention to the raised eyebrow Francis gave him.

"Arthur Kirkland?" he asked, having found out everything he could about the man, ever since he was brought to the Frenchman's attention. "What about him?"

"I recognised his smell." Gilbert didn't pay any attention to Francis' wandering hands as they trailed over the albino's back, tracing his shoulder blades affectionately.

"I didn't think you had even met him before…" Francis mused, letting his hands roam over Gilbert's waist, to caress his chest.

"I could smell him on you when you came back bragging about biting him." Gilbert sneered, baring his teeth a little in annoyance.

He shared a strange bond with Francis. He had been a vampire for longer than the Frenchman had, and so he protected him when he was first brought back to their group. He still didn't like it when Francis sneaked out without telling him, although he knew the Frenchman would not do anything careless. But he still wanted to separate Francis from the hunter, seeing how attached the French vampire had become to teasing and torturing Kirkland. He had been glad when he heard the hunter had moved away, but recently discovered a series of vampire slayings and knew he was back.

"_Et_ you think you encountered him before?" Francis continued obliviously, now delivering gentle kisses to the albino's pale neck.

"I _know_ I have." Gilbert insisted, closing his eyes and enjoying the Frenchman's affection.

"From where?" Francis was persistent, teasing the answer from Gilbert with kisses and touches. The albino gave a sigh in response to the feather-light caresses, and allowed his head to tilt back, leaning against Francis' shoulder, before he opened his eyes again and stared up at the other vampire.

"He was there the day that Claudia was killed." He stated bluntly, and he didn't miss the look of surprise that came over the Frenchman's handsome features. The albino leaned upwards slightly, pressing kisses along Francis' jawline, allowing the other to draw the conclusion.

"But…he could have only been a boy then – " Francis began, and Gilbert hummed in agreement.

"Ten years old." He confirmed, and Francis frowned in confusion.

"How could a ten year-old boy possibly kill a _Primus_ vampire?" were his words, and Gilbert reached up, tracing the Frenchman's face silently. _Primus _vampires were the highest, strongest and most powerful vampires of them all. There was only a small population of them across the world, and Claudia had been one of them.

"Do you forget that he had the very best hunter to train him? I would expect nothing less." Gilbert sat up again, turning to face him.

"But, still…it's simply not possible." Francis shook his head, and Gilbert cupped the Frenchman's face in his pale hands.

"It is, Francis. You know it is." Francis looked away, but Gilbert gently brought his face to look at him again.

"Your precious Arthur Kirkland killed Claudia. We cannot let him live any longer. I will kill him as soon as the sun sets." Francis was quiet a moment, taking Gilbert's hands away from his face, before leaning in and whispering in the albino's ear.

"Save me a bite~" the Frenchman grinned, pulling back and offering a mocking bow before retreating from the room.

Gilbert stared after him, a smirk on his features. "But of course, _mein freund_~"

He rose and left the room as well, but turned right and descended down a narrow, spiralling staircase that led to the darkest, lowest level of the magnificent house. An inhuman growling and shrieking could be heard as he selected a door at random from the five that greeted him at the foot of the stairs, and opened it.

Grinning to himself, he closed the door behind him, and after a few moments, one of the inhuman cries was silenced permanently.

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><p><strong>AN: you'll find out what Gilbert did and why in the next chapter, because I love leaving cliff-hangers for you ;) **

**Please review and tell me what you think so far~**


	12. The Game Has Begun

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**12**

Arthur plunged his stake into the chest of the third common vampire he had come across that evening, and watched with satisfaction as it froze before turning to dust before him. The stake fell, clattering on the damp cobblestones, and Arthur picked it up again quickly, tucking it into his coat pocket. He stepped lightly out of the alley, finding himself greeted by the good old London streets that were bustling with people finishing their shopping or coming home from work this evening. He smiled to himself, feeling the buzz that he always felt after killing a vampire, and joined the crowd of people flowing down the street, fancying a nice hot bath and then an early night in his hotel room.

Arthur was lost in his thoughts and didn't realise he was in someone's path until he knocked shoulders with them.

"Excuse me…" Arthur apologised automatically.

"Ah, _non. Excusez-moi, mon cher_~" Arthur froze. That voice. He knew that voice. He reached out and grabbed the arm of the person, daring to meet their cerulean gaze and saw their glinting smile.

_Mon cher…_

"You…" Arthur was overcome with the rage he had pent up for more than three years, and gripped the vampire's wrist more tightly.

"_Bonsoir_, Arthur Kirkland~" Francis chimed merrily, offering a sweet smile, but his eyes sparkled with evil.

Arthur reached for the stake in his pocket, but the Frenchman hummed in caution. "Now, now. Causing a scene is not very professional for a Vampire Hunter, _mon cher_~"

Arthur looked back at the vampire in silent rage, but his lips parted slightly and he stopped in shock as he saw the Frenchman's cerulean orbs.

_They were so…captivating, remarkable, beautiful… _

"…W-What do you want?" Arthur managed, unable to tear his gaze away from Francis' eyes. Seeing this, the French vampire smirked and stepped in closer, his face inches from Arthur's.

The people bustling down the street seemed not to acknowledge them, simply dividing around them and continuing on their way, as if they could not see the Noble and the slayer.

"To warn you, _mon cher_~" he whispered, and Arthur seemed to suddenly realise how close Francis was to him, stepping back with a blush on his stubborn features that Francis found cute. Arthur tore his gaze away from Francis' breaking the spell of his cerulean stare.

"Warn me? Warn me about what? Why on earth would you try to help me in such a way?" He demanded, careful not to raise his voice and attract the attention of the oblivious public. Francis smirked, clearly amused by Arthur's sudden caution, noticing how easily he could cause Arthur to let his guard down.

"Help you? Why, I'm merely making the game a little more interesting~" he grinned, showing a glimpse of his pearl-white fangs.

"Game?" Arthur's hand closed around the stake in his pocket, wanting badly to plunge it into the Noble's heart but knowing he couldn't with so many people around.

"_Oui, mon cher_. A game where the Hunter becomes the hunted~" At this, Arthur was about to pull the stake from his pocket, but Francis clasped the Hunter's wrist in an iron grip, tugging him closer once more, forcing Arthur to meet his gaze.

"Watch your back, _mon cher_. You have peaked the interest of others with your little slaying spree~" he grinned again, so close that Arthur could see the tips of his fangs glinting in the evening light. "But don't die right away, Arthur. I want my chance to play with you~"

Arthur yanked his arm free of the vampire, before walking past him, having too much dignity to thank him. But he did heed Francis' words, and the Frenchman smirked as he saw the Hunter heading the opposite way to his hotel.

_Ah, yes. Now they were all players in this game of the living and the undead._

XxX

Francis heard the angry footsteps storming down the lavish corridor leading to the ballroom and smirked. He leaned back in the grand, intricately patterned chair that served as a vampirical throne and was situated at the back of the ballroom, overlooking the polished expanse of floor from a level two steps higher. The huge double doors were shoved open, giving way to Gilbert as he marched across the hall, grabbing Francis by the collar once he reached him.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" He hissed, hauling Francis out of the seat but not allowing him the space to stand properly.

"Playing at?" Francis asked innocently, feigning ignorance but allowing the smirk to dance about his features mockingly.

"I saw you talking to that Hunter right after we agreed I would kill him! Then I find that Kirkland never came back to his hotel room!" Gilbert was furious, that much was clear, but Francis wasn't fazed, waiting calmly while Gilbert vented his rage.

"What the hell did you tell him?!" the albino demanded, always finding that his emotions were taken to extremes whenever Francis was involved. The Frenchman was infuriating, but Gilbert never wanted to be rid of him.

"Only to watch his back, _mon ami_~" Francis stated, his voice a soothing purr compared to Gilbert's almost cracking fury. "I thought it would only be fair to give him a head-start, or else I wouldn't get to play with him for very long~"

"Play with him? You think he's some sort of toy?" Gilbert drew back a little, releasing Francis and letting him fall back into the chair. He remained stood over him, however, still wanting answers.

"Not a toy. A pet, perhaps. One I can tame and tease and watch as he can do nothing to fight back~" the Frenchman grinned, and Gilbert saw the look in his cerulean eyes. It was one he hadn't seen for a long time – one of almost sick amusement, and he almost pitied the Hunter. He had no clue what Francis had in mind for Kirkland, but he didn't want to be a part of it.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." He finally ground out, but he backed down the steps in retreat, having forgotten that Francis was as powerful as he was, yet the Frenchman didn't show it. Where Gilbert had physical strength, Francis had a power of manipulation. One look at his cerulean eyes and you were under some sort of spell, everything around you slowed down and you completely forgot what you had been going to do.

Gilbert had been caught in Francis' cerulean stare too many times, and no matter how strong he was, he had not been able to overcome it yet. He swept across the ballroom as he had entered before, dragging the huge double doors closed behind him again.

Francis continued to sit where Gilbert had dropped him, a growing smirk on his features once more.

_Don't expect me to be siding with you, just because we are of the Noble breed,_ mon ami

_I am on my own side, and I will win._

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><p><strong>AN: now the game has begun~**

**Please review~~~~~~**


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